


Smoke & Mirrors

by Andrina_Nightshade



Series: Andrina's Canonverse Short Fics [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Light Angst, Mentions of contraception and pregnancy, Minor Finn/Rose;, Minor Jess/Kaydel, Minor Poe/Wexley, Mother/Son Bonding, campfire tales, no smut but suggestive remarks, some alderaanian mythology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:35:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26102044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andrina_Nightshade/pseuds/Andrina_Nightshade
Summary: "Rey wishes Ben were here. Not just so that she could feel less alone amidst the outpouring of romance currently on display. But because, if their little group could overlook the trivial detail of his role as Supreme Leader, they would find a wonderful storyteller whose words and tales would give them endless delight."An evening telling stories around the campfire on Ajan Kloss becomes so much more...
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: Andrina's Canonverse Short Fics [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1989178
Comments: 22
Kudos: 54
Collections: Reylo Hidden Gems





	Smoke & Mirrors

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rey_Lo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rey_Lo/gifts).



> This started life as microfic based on the prompt "Smoke" -only it kinda grew arms and legs until there was nothing micro about it.
> 
> Title comes from my favourite short story anthology by Neil Gaiman.
> 
> For the lovely Rey_Lo - thank you for beta-reading this for me!

Dusk is Rey’s favourite time of day. She loves to watch the dazzling blue of the sky melt into hues of red and purple and feel the sticky heat of the day fade until the air is cold and refreshing.

As has been their little group’s custom on evenings when they are not beholden with duties on base, Poe likes to gather them around a fire at dusk and trade stories.

What had started as a simple way to pass the time many months ago has taken on a degree of grandeur. Rose jokingly refers to their group as the “midnight society”, much to the rolling eyes and groans of the others. But she always manages to acquire a bottle of whiskey, and as the temperature drops they huddle into blankets and share tales ranging from the scandalous (usually Poe) to the ludicrous (again, usually Poe, although Rose’s recounting of her and Finn’s encounter with the fathiers in Canto Bight had rendered even the pilot incredulous).

These moments in the firelight are some of Rey’s favourite memories - simple camaraderie, the perfect balm to the aching loneliness that had once plagued her. 

In the scavenger camp at Niima outpost (before she had moved out to Hellhound Two), young Rey had hovered at the edge as the other scavengers traded tales. Each morsel was fodder for a starving girl’s imagination - tales of great galactic battles; of rebel princesses and brave Jedi; of ruthless bounty hunters and heroic smugglers. 

And each night, that little girl would dream of lush green planets and rain-soaked islands, and of the parents fighting against all odds in the galaxy to return to her, of the grand adventures 

But so many of those dreams have proven to be false. The idols of her childhood revealed to her as achingly human and fallible, despite their heroic deeds. And as for her parents… she bites down on the hurt which threatens to overwhelm her at times.

The past is long dead. 

It only takes Rey a few moments to get the fire started, by which time she hears a peel of familiar laughter through the trees as her friends start to trickle into the clearing. They settle into their now habitual places, exchanging pleasantries with each other, the anticipation of a few hours of respite from the war tangible in the air.

Adding to this convivial atmosphere, Ajan Kloss has been struck by an epidemic what General Leia affectionately refers to as “canoodling”. Rose and Finn have always been sickeningly adorable and affectionate, and Rey thinks they are good for one another. But now Kaydel and Jess spend the evening nestled into one another, and even Poe is getting touchy-feely with Wexley. His hands are… somewhere. Rey squirms, and hastily diverts her attention to adjusting BB-8’s antenna. The droid rewards her with a series of happy beeps.

Through the tendrils of smoke rising from the fire, Rey sees love in its myriad forms. But there are no warm arms enveloping her, no mouth whispering sultry comments into her ear, no lips to caress hers in a kiss.

On Jakku, Rey thought she understood loneliness. But this was its own exquisite form of torture.

It’s not that she begrudges her friends their intimacy - they have all shared too much suffering, too many brushes with death to deny themselves any small joy. And each of them are good people, who deserve every happiness and pleasure in the galaxy.

And it is not that she herself is devoid of this sort of romance or attention. Quite the opposite, in fact. General Leia had spotted a love bite on Rey’s neck only last week. _“I’m glad someone is making you happy,”_ Leia had said.

Blood had filled Rey’s face; had the ground split to the moon’s core and swallowed her at that moment, she would have been grateful.

Later that night, upon the opening of their connection, she had admonished Ben to be more careful. He at least had the decency to look contrite.

Until, that is, they had fallen back into bed. He had at least partially listened and moved the attention of his lips and tongue elsewhere. Consequently, it will be a few days yet before Rey can join the other female Resistance members at the hot springs near the base, lest she has to explain the mouth-shaped bruises blooming like flowers on her chest and her thighs...

Rose claps her hand, loud as thunder. The sound pulls Rey from her reverie, and silence falls over the others. “Well,” she says, “Who wants to go first?”

Of _course,_ it would be Poe who volunteers. The centre of attention is his natural home, and he presides over their gathering like a lord over his court.

In a nonchalant tone, he begins the tale of his first meeting with General Leia almost a decade earlier, before Hosnian Prime was stardust, and the Galactic Resistance, not even a concept.

Though he is an engaging narrator, able to punctuate a story with clever impersonations and proper gesticulations, Rey cannot focus on his words. 

Instead, her eyes fall on Jess, currently running long fingers through the silky blonde curtain of Kaydel’s hair, to the approving purr of her lover. Rey’s scalp tingles with the memory of large, warm hands doing the same to her…

She wishes _Ben_ were here. Not just so that she could feel less alone amidst the outpouring of romance currently on display. But because, if their little group could overlook the _trivial_ detail of his role as Supreme Leader of the First Order, they would find a wonderful storyteller whose words and tales would give them endless delight.

And Ben has always been good at telling stories. Legends of ancient history; epic battles of old; or simply rare beautiful moments amidst the aching loneliness of his life. 

He whispers stories into her hair in the afterglow of their lovemaking, one hand stroking her bare arm whilst she traces the constellation of moles upon his chest. His beautiful, sonorous voice could even recite the dullest theorems from the _Aionomicum_ and she would _still_ listen with rapt attention. 

She thinks of that pleasant rasp of lingering arousal in his tone and feels the ache in her belly only grow more powerful.

Rey forces a laugh when their group erupts into hoots and giggles. All are too engrossed in Poe’s tale, and in their little bubbles of love, to notice her inattention. She shakes her head and tries to listen as Poe resumes his narration.

Until she feels a familiar buzzing at the edge of her consciousness that is _nothing_ to do with the alcohol. Her eyes flicker to the figure wreathed in black who has materialised at her side and murmurs a greeting in her ear.

Warm arms wrap around Rey, and she leans into his embrace. "I've missed you," he says, lavishing kisses on the exposed skin of her neck and sending pleasant shivers down her spine. It is hard to suppress the low whine of pleasure at his touch.

Until Poe does a completely spot-on impression of C-3PO that has her writhing in laughter.

She can feel Ben bristle beside her. "You're not alone?" He whispers against her skin. 

The slightest shake of her head is the only response she can give without revealing his presence. 

His disappointment is a tangible thing. She can feel the heat of arousal in his skin, and thoughts bleed into her mind of all he had dreamt of doing with her this night. But she cannot simply abandon her friends without inviting suspicion. Even in her lovestruck euphoria, Rose’s mind remains razor sharp, and Rey has never been good at lying.

Regrettably, their mutual arousal will have to go unsatiated tonight.

“You smell of smoke,” Ben murmurs against her pulse point. He leans closer, trapping her in the circle of his embrace and she can feel his nose brush against her cheekbone. “And… whiskey?” he asks, his breath ghosting over her skin.

A gentle squeeze of his thigh is the only response she can give.

He hums, a contemplative sound, and resumes his assault on her neck with his lips. Her eyes flutter closed, and she allows him to lavish her with kisses, unseen by her friends and comrades. A sardonic smile tugs at her lips. If only they knew, these heroes of the Resistance, that their great enemy, Kylo Ren (and the name sounds like poison in her mind) was currently sitting among them, bestowing kisses, and caresses upon the Last Jedi?

Suddenly, Ben tenses against her. In that instant, Rey senses it too - the approach of another Force signature.

Her eyes snap upon and fall upon the figure of General Leia Organa as she enters the clearing.

Rey’s heart thunders in her chest. Even without a word, she _knows_ that Leia can see Ben…

_Yes General, your son - the Supreme Leader - is still on the other side of the galaxy, and is still head of the self-same First Order we are at war with… But the Force sees fit to connect us at random intervals. Yes, he is the source of the love bite you noticed on my neck the other day. But don’t worry, we both have implants so there will be no inconvenient grandchildren born in the midst of a war between their grandmother and their father…_

An eternity passes; Rey half expects Ben to storm off or find some way to snap the bond closed so that he can retreat to his quarters and lick his wounds. She definitely expects some visceral reaction from Leia.

The General’s face is a mask, but her eyes - the wild, expressive eyes of her son - betray a maelstrom of emotion. Bafflement, regret, anger, grief… but all of it cloaked in the blazing light of _hope._

Their little group falls silent, and Poe stands to salute the General; she merely gives him a dismissive wave. “At ease, Dameron,” she says, her voice weary and her eyes never leaving Rey and Ben. “Let me guess, campfire stories?” At their murmured agreement, a melancholy smile fills her features. “Reminds me of Endor… Me, Luke and Han listening to Threepio tell stories to the Ewoks.”

At the mention of his father’s name, a sob rips forth from Ben, and he buries his face in the crook of Rey’s neck. Hot tears trickle down her back. 

She wants to comfort him; to drag him away to somewhere private where she can entangle herself in his arms, kiss away every tear. But, with the General’s piercing gaze upon them, and surrounded by her friends who are suddenly very alert and aware thanks to Leia’s intrusion, she cannot simply leave.

Through the bond, she sends soothing words to him. Her hand rubs slow circles on his thigh; Leia of course notices and quirks an eyebrow in response. But as the firelight dances over her features, accentuating every crease of age and weariness, Rey can see the gleam of tears threatening to burst forth.

Rey wraps Ben in her Force signature, a steady pulse of love that she hopes will centre him. But she feels the brush of another Force signature against them both. He stifles a gasp against her skin, as the overwhelming power of his mother’s forgiveness envelopes him.

From their conversations, Rey knows it has been a decade since Ben and Leia have shared the same air. He had of course anticipated a meeting at some point - on the field of battle, in some woeful attempt at peace negotiations in some neutral territory… But here, around a fire half a galaxy away, with his arms around the woman he loves - the woman who to the whole galaxy, is his enemy - he had not anticipated.

Everyone senses the tension in the air, although mercifully they cannot know its source. Finn fiddles nervously with the laces of his boots, and Jess’s hand in Kaydel’s hair has stilled. Luckily, Rose is the first to rouse from her stupor. “General,” she says, a subtle stammer in her voice, “Would you like to… join us?”

A smile cracked across Leia’s lips, even if it does not fully meet her eyes. “You know what? I would love to.”

Mercifully, Leia drops to the ground beside Kaydel and Jess. Poe pours the General a measure of whiskey. Rey sees the almost imperceptible tremor in Leia’s hand as she accepts it.

Through the haze of smoke, her eyes never leave Rey’s - or Ben’s - for that matter. His tears have dried, but every breath still shudders in his chest, and Rey can still feel the pounding of his heart against her back.

“Well, since no-one else seems to be talking,” Leia quips, “Might I contribute a story?” At the group’s murmured ascent, she begins, “Have you ever heard of the _Grimtaash_?”

She weaves a simple myth; of the being that would protect the house of Alderaan from violence, betrayal and (Ben tenses at the word) _corruption._ “I used to tell this story to my son,” she says, an audible waver in her voice. “It was his favourite.”

The pleasant atmosphere around the campfire changes at those words. Finn’s face twists into a grimace, as does Dameron’s. Of course, Finn knows the truth of Kylo Ren’s identity - he too had witnessed the events leading to Han’s death at his son’s hands. That Dameron shares this knowledge too is a surprise to Rey - perhaps the General herself had confided in the pilot? But from the others, Rey senses a tang of grief and pity - to the rest of the galaxy, Ben Solo is missing, presumed deceased following the massacre at the Jedi Temple on Yavin IV.

Never mind that he (or a tangible Force projection of him, at least - neither Rey nor Ben have ever elucidated the exact physics of their bond) is currently sitting amongst them, unseen by all but his mother and the woman he loves.

The woman currently holding his hand in a bruising grip, feeling the dampness of his tears once more against her neck.

“And I hope he knows,” Leia says barely above a whisper, “That the _Grimtaash_ is watching over him even now. And that I love him. And that, no matter what has happened in the past, he can still come home.”

With that, the General stands. She ignores the barely concealed snort of derision from Dameron, or the incredulous sound which escapes Finn, much to the confusion of his girlfriend. Instead, she crosses the clearing until she is standing before Rey.

Before Ben.

One of his hands is on Rey’s shoulder, his grip almost bruising her in its intensity. Leia hesitates, before brushing her hand over his bloodless knuckles. 

A hiss escapes him, and even though Rey cannot see his face from this angle, she can envisage the look of boyish helplessness currently filling his features.

The touch is brief, before Leia withdraws. The mask of the stern yet kind General, the unflappable politician cracks for just a moment, and Rey sees the expression of a sorrowful and desperate mother who wants nothing more than to be reunited with her son.

“I know now,” Ben says, his thumb brushing against Rey’s bare shoulder.

An instant later, the bond dissolves.

Both Leia and Rey’s faces are wet with tears as Poe gives an exaggerated stretch and suggests they all return to their bunks. The usual salaciousness to those words is gone, and a strange tension still hangs in the air.

“I concur, Captain Dameron,” Leia says with a rasp in her voice. “Rey, would you care to walk me back to my quarters? I want to talk about a mission for you.”

Rey nods, and bids her friends goodnight as they stumble back to the main bases. She downs the dregs of whiskey from her mug and scoops up a handful of dirt to quench the fire. It darkens with a hiss, but smoke lingers in the air. 

The only sounds are the buzzing of jungle insects as Rey stares at the General in the starlight. Leia steps closer, and suddenly Rey finds herself wrapped in the older woman’s arms. 

“Thank you,” Leia whispers into Rey’s hair. And together, they walk back to the base in silence.

They stop outside the General’s quarters, and murmur words of goodnight. But before Rey can leave, she feels Leia’s hand rest on her forearm. A knowing smile tugs at the corners of the older woman’s lips. “So, when can I expect grandchildren?”

Regrettably, the ground elects _not_ to swallow Rey up at that moment. She splutters, blood rushing to her cheeks, and makes a hasty retreat to her bunk.


End file.
